


The Final Deduction

by otppurefuckingmagic



Category: Shadowhunters (TV)
Genre: Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Banter, Bickering, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Sherlock AU, and there's sort of a case to solve in there?, and unexpected humor?, but i really loved writing it, i don't know what this is, idiots who don’t know they’re in love, izzy is the captain of the malec ship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-10
Updated: 2017-12-10
Packaged: 2019-02-13 04:27:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,903
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12975900
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/otppurefuckingmagic/pseuds/otppurefuckingmagic
Summary: Most of London has shown up at 221B Baker Street to see off their newly-famous amateur detective Magnus Bane, who has been compelled to accept a case in the States with his esteemed colleague Dr. Alec Lightwood. After their last case—a brush with a serial killer that almost cost Alec his life—neither Magnus nor Alec is the same, yet they both agree it's time to return to work. But all isn’t as it seems as they head for warmer climes....The outcome of this case will alter the path of their lives forever.





	The Final Deduction

**Author's Note:**

  * For [annplanet](https://archiveofourown.org/users/annplanet/gifts).



> This is a fic I never would’ve thought about writing before I saw "Sherlock AU" in the list of possibilities for this gift exchange, but I had so much fun telling this story. There's absolutely nothing Christmasy in this fic, but Merry Christmas and Happy Holidays, regardless!
> 
> Russian translation available [here](https://ficbook.net/readfic/7153759), Thank you to onmondaymorning on tumblr for this work!

The daily newspaper crinkled in Alec’s hands as he restrained his laughter. Perhaps he should’ve been dreading the petulant outburst to come, but the full-color image on the newspaper’s front page—of the always elegant Magnus Bane with a ratty deerstalker situated on his head—was just _too good_.

Even the cacophony echoing from the street below couldn’t sully his mood.

Someone had slipped to the press that London’s newly-famous amateur detective had been compelled to accept a case in the States, and now half of London seemed to be outside Magnus’ door. According to his adoring masses, growing in number each hour if Alec’s own blog following was any indication, Londoners were more than willing to loan out their beloved sleuth for a bit, but they were going to properly see him away and, more than likely, would be waiting at Heathrow when he returned home.

“Home” was a relative term for both he and Magnus, though. Magnus had lived all over the world—Indonesia, Spain, New York, and a brief yet supposedly memorable stint in Peru—and Alec had wandered here to be closer his sister after he’d been discharged with honors from the US Army. He’d never quite heal from the wounds he’d suffered in Afghanistan, but London had been good to him, and Magnus…. Meeting Magnus had changed his life.

Another round of applause erupted from the crowd gathered outside 221B Baker Street, promptly followed by a collective groan of displeasure. Magnus’ landlady Catarina Loss—who was most definitely not _the Magnus Bane_ —must have ventured outside to empty her trash.

Alec tipped his head and listened, chuckling when Cat bellowed at the crowd. “Go find something else to do and give Mr. Bane and Dr. Lightwood some peace!”

Alec wasn’t her tenant, but he appreciated her protective intentions. While Magnus had remained an enigmatic character in the backdrop of Scotland Yard’s investigations for the last two years, there was no escaping public attention after their last case.

It had only been a matter of time anyway. Unlike Alec, Magnus wasn’t the type of person to fade into the background.

Alec set aside the newspaper and pried himself out of the chair with a wince. The rain today wasn’t doing any favors for the shrapnel forever embedded in the muscles of his leg, but this bone-deep ache was a direct result of the cold, underground cell he’d been held captive in until a week ago. Alec shivered. At least he and Magnus were now headed for much warmer climes.

Instead of inching apart the transparent curtains over the window—which would surely start a frenzy—Alec peered through the sheer material at the gathering below. With the volume of adulators waiting to see Magnus off, the police had blockaded Baker Street completely and the now-infamous deerstalker cap sat on more heads than he could count.

His day was only getting better.

Alec composed himself and glanced at the half-open bedroom door. “They’ll want to see you in the hat.”

“What hat?” Magnus responded. There was a beat of silence, then, “No. _That_ hat?!”

Magnus erupted from the bedroom in a flurry of waving hands, a stream of glitter in his wake. Alec bit back a smile and motioned toward the paper.

“One time!” Magnus protested. He sulked across the room and picked up the deerstalker from the table where he’d discarded it a week ago. “The _one time_ I set aside fashion for warmth. I’m going to murder Ragnor for releasing that picture. Perhaps _that_ would be a case you could solve without my aid.”

Alec rolled his eyes and pushed aside Magnus’ attempt to bait him. “You’re a known commodity now. There are things the press and public expect from you.”

“They should know only to expect the unexpected.”

Alec scoffed. “Wear the hat.”

“It’s ninety degrees in the Florida, why would I need such a hat? And hat hair, Alec. _Hat hair_.”

“You can wear your hair…loose for the flight.”

“Preposterous. Only you see me in such disarray and you have too much integrity to expose me. Therefore, I have plausible deniability. I”—Magnus cocked out a hip and plucked at the lapels of his fitted, burgundy suit coat with a dramatic flourish—“am always flawlessly styled.”

Alec shook his head to clear the flare of attraction that skittered through his thoughts, failing completely when Magnus started to approach him.

He breathed deeply and refocused on _what_ he was supposed to be convincing Magnus to do, instead of _who_ he wanted to convince Magnus to do. “It’s only a few photos.”

“It’s the death of my reputation,” Magnus responded, ignoring Alec—as he usually did. He bounced onto the tips of his toes to pull the hat on Alec’s head. “You wear the hat.”

Alec swallowed thickly at Magnus’ proximity. “People will start talking about us.”

Magnus held Alec’s gaze for a beat, his eyes narrowing as studied Alec. Alec forced himself to hold his ground under Magnus’ overly-intelligent scrutiny.

“Didn’t you know, my dear Lightwood?” Magnus swiped his coat off the hook and peered coyly over his shoulder. “They already do.”

And Alec was left speechless with that damn hat obscuring half his vision as Magnus rushed down the stairs.

 

****

 

Magnus ambled down the gangway, preening at the awed gasps that had followed him for miles. He wasn’t quite used to this level of attention yet, but, quite frankly, it was extraordinarily overdue.

At his side, Alec leaned on his cane, seeking more support than usual. Magnus didn’t offer any help—Alec wouldn’t want that—and yet he found his steps slowing, allowing Alec time to maneuver along the precarious surface and toward the plane.

Alec’s mood had considerably soured since they’d left his flat this morning, but pointing out that fact would only rile Alec more.

“Am I going to have to worry about your mindset, Alec?”

“I'm fine,” Alec bit out, frowning harder.

Magnus smirked. He may have enjoyed riling Alec up a bit too much. That it now served the secondary purpose of pushing Magnus deeper into denial about his attraction to Alec only made his tongue more wicked.

Magnus raised an eyebrow, a retort on his lips, but Alec wasn't looking at him anymore. Magnus followed Alec’s gaze to the opening of the plane where the pilot stood outside, his hand extended. “Welcome, Mr. Bane.”

Magnus’ unease bubbled up at the proffered hand. He didn't allow anyone to touch him. He was a confident man—he didn’t have to fake that—but there were times his confidence covered for a deep insecurity and unresolved pain, no matter how many years it had been since his father had died.

But before Magnus had to rudely decline—a haughty dismissal seemed to bolster his reputation instead of tarnishing it—Alec switched his cane to the left and shook the pilot’s hand. “You were US Air Force, weren't you?”

The man’s eyes widened. “Yes, Dr. Lightwood, I was. How did you know?”

The man’s accent was American, not British, and he appeared to be in his late-thirties, making him of an age when the US military had increased pilot numbers in the early 2000’s. In the States, most civilian pilots came from either universities or the military and even though the capabilities between civilian-trained and military-trained pilots were nearly identical, Human Resource departments at major airlines preferred military pilots based on the breadth of their training protocol. Furthermore, while the US Navy employed nearly as many pilots as the Air Force, most of them were usually helicopter pilots and not aircraft, therefore statistically less likely to make the jump to a major civilian airline. Deductively, the odds were in Alec’s favor that this particular pilot had once been a member of the US Air Force.

Or, more likely, Alec had merely spotted the US Air Force rank pin on the pilot’s jacket—currently peeking out of a locker in the cabin of the aircraft.

“That is a trade secret,” Magnus quipped.

Alec rolled his eyes and the pilot laughed. “Well, it’s an honor to fly you both today.”

Magnus gave his best “of course it is” tilt of the chin and boarded, passing by the flight attendants and locating his seat in First Class. “You first, Dr. Lightwood.”

Alec claimed the seat at the window, stretching his leg out and collapsing his cane to fit under the seat in front of him. Determined not to be distracted by Alec’s nearness, Magnus motioned for the flight attendant. She was a lovely woman, and she carried herself with that knowledge, so Magnus beckoned her close and engaged her in a conversation that continued throughout the boarding process, with her returning to him each time she had to step away.

“Anyway,” the woman said once the aisle was clear again, “it’s a long flight, but there are plenty of entertainment choices.” She brushed up against Magnus’ arm as she leaned over him. Her breath tickled at his cheek. “Just hit the button to call me if you find yourself in need of…alternatives.”

Alec muttered under his breath.

Magnus whipped his head around as the attendant departed with a sly smile. “Did you say something, Alec?”

“Nothing. It’s fine. This is all just so…fine.”

Magnus studied Alec. “You’re nervous. What are you nervous about?”

“I’m not.”

“You’re tapping your leg—your _bad_ leg. You’ve gnawed your bottom lip nearly open, and you look rather pale despite the red on your cheeks. You’re nervous.”

Nervous or…upset. However, Magnus refused to place any consideration into the second option. He and Alec had been working together for two years now—an accidental partnership of sorts—and although the esteemed Dr. Lightwood was gay and preternaturally attractive, Alec spent most of his time around Magnus frowning and bickering. No matter what innuendos Magnus threw at him, Alec’s frown only deepened. It was rare when it happened, but Magnus had been around enough to know when he wasn’t desired.

“Fine.” Alec shrugged. “I don’t like flying?”

“You flew all over the world when you were a soldier. Try again.”

“I’m afraid I’ll run out of _entertainment_ choices?”

Alec’s voice dripped with sarcasm. Magnus narrowed his eyes and pursed his lips.

“Whatever,” Alec dismissed with a wave of his hand. “I’m not nervous.”

“You are,” Magnus pressed, just to be difficult.

“You know what?” Alec erupted. “How about that I have to put up with you in close quarters for the next thirteen hours?”

Magnus sniffed. “Now _that_ I believe.”

“DON’T CLOSE THE DOOR!” a woman’s voice bellowed from the gangway.

“And there is Scotland Yard’s preeminent pathologist. Right on time.” Magnus met Izzy’s eyes as she traipsed down the plane aisle to their seats. “Good morning, Isabelle. So glad you could grace us with your presence.”

Izzy flipped him off and plopped into the seat across the aisle from him.

Magnus looked to Alec for support, but Alec simply chuckled softly, his shoulders easing. “Hey, Iz.”

“Remind me not to pack so much next time so I can take the train instead of a cab. Rush hour is impossible here.”

“Says the woman who grew up in New York,” Alec chided.

“And who would never actually step a high-heeled foot on public transportation,” Magnus pointed out.

Alec smiled at him, one of his genuine, soft smiles and Magnus had to look away.

Luckily for Magnus, Alec was asleep before the plane’s wheels were off the ground—propped against the window and a thin airline blanket pulled haphazardly over his shoulders. Like most soldiers, Alec could fall asleep anywhere within seconds of closing his eyes, but there was no consistency to whether that sleep would be restorative or not.

After two years of cataloging Alec’s irregular and often interrupted sleep schedule, Magnus could spot the signs of Alec in the midst of true, refreshing rest or fitful, nightmare-ridden unconsciousness. When Alec slept, _truly_ slept as he did now, Magnus’ world calmed.

He’d felt very few moments of peace since Alec had disappeared nine days ago without a trace. It had taken Magnus forty-eight hours too long to work through the clues and uncover Alec’s location. Forty-eight hours of more mutilated bodies in Izzy’s morgue and the vicious dread that each time he picked up his phone one of those bodies would be Alec.

The only reason Alec had ended up a target at all was because Magnus hadn’t been home. While Alec was being drugged and dragged away, Magnus had been on a date, trying to push past this one-sided crush.

Magnus sighed.

The hideous deerstalker hat peeked out of his carry-on bag at his feet, stuffed there by Alec. Despite the grief he’d given Alec this morning, he was relieved the image of him in that hat was the one being widely distributed.

At least Ragnor hadn’t released the other picture to the media.

Magnus glanced at Alec to ensure he was still asleep, then opened the photo gallery on his cell, flipping back to a picture of Alec crumpled into Magnus’ arms, his clothes streaked with blood and dirt, and his face buried in Magnus’ neck. Magnus’ chin was tipped up, eyes on the heavens as if he believed in God, when the truth was that the only immutable force Magnus believed in was in his arms.

He’d felt many emotions in that moment, all of them fuzzing in the background to the overwhelming crush of fear.

That embrace had lasted much shorter of a time than the picture implied. Only seconds. A few heartbeats. And each painful jolting of his heart in those seconds had changed Magnus.

His failure to protect Alec couldn’t happen again. Wouldn’t. How he felt about Alec couldn’t affect his judgement again. He’d been accused of being unfeeling before—by his family, colleagues, random strangers, and Alec as well—and if that’s what he had to do keep Alec alive, then he would.

Alec shivered in his sleep and Magnus’ heart clenched.

Magnus was reaching for Alec’s blanket to pull it fully onto his shoulder when Izzy whispered, “How is he?”

Magnus reached for the airline magazine and glanced side-long at Izzy. “He says he’s fine.”

“And what do you think?”

Magnus flipped through the magazine instead of meeting her eyes. “Why wouldn’t I believe him?”

“He was in that, that…hole for two days, held by London’s most violent serial killer. And if that wasn’t bad enough, he was forced to watch his cellmates being shot and dragged away. That’s damaging enough on it’s own, but it had to bring up memories of the mission that cost him his career. He may have been a soldier, but he’s a doctor first. Alec can’t stand to see people hurting. There’s no way he’s fine.”

Magnus pushed down the guilt that rolled through him. “He survived, Isabelle. Just as he did in Afghanistan. It’s not up to you or I how he feels about any of it.”

“But—”

“It’s not our choice. Leave him be.”

“Are _you_ okay?”

“Why wouldn’t I be?”

Izzy sighed. “I promise I’ll leave him alone.” Magnus began to sit back in his chair, then, “ _If_ …. I’ll leave him alone _if_ I can count on you to watch over him. Make sure he’s okay.”

“It’s not as if I’ll have anything more pressing to do once we’re on the ground,” Magnus dismissed with as much sarcasm as he could muster. He rolled his shoulders to ease the tension. “Speaking of your mysterious case, did you bring files I can review?”

“Yep. And I left them in my checked luggage. Relax, Magnus, and watch a movie or something. We’re in _First_ Class not _Business_ Class. We’ll talk work later.”

Magnus frowned. Deeply.

They didn’t discuss work later. In fact, they didn’t discuss work at all for the remainder of the flight, or during their connection in Atlanta, while claiming their baggage, or on the way to the hotel. And when the three of them entered the lobby of their hotel in Key West, Florida it became eminently clear why they hadn’t discussed work when Izzy turned to them to say, “I lied. There isn’t any case here. Enjoy your vacation!”

Magnus spluttered and Alec’s face turned a shade of red that was better fit for a lobster.

“What the hell are you talking about, Iz?” Alec growled.

Izzy tipped her chin up with full defiance. “You two never would’ve taken a vacation on your own and you needed one after your last case. Here’s your room key. Unfortunately, there’s a LGBT biker convention in town and everything was completely booked up, so I had to reserve one room for both of you.”

Alec closed his eyes and kneaded at the bridge of his nose, as if he was staving off a headache. “Tell me you got a room with two beds.”

Izzy turned toward the clerk.

“Your room is an oceanview suite, with a separate sitting area and…one king-size bed. I would offer to switch rooms, but I’m sorry, the resort is full.”

Magnus met Alec’s eyes and saw the same murderous intent he felt reflected there.

And Izzy…?

Izzy shrugged. “Oops?”

 

****

 

Alec stood on the balcony overlooking the marina and breathed in the ocean air, trying to find his equilibrium. Three nights in a hotel room with one king-sized bed and one Magnus Bane. The off-nights he crashed at Magnus’ loft when they were working odd hours were difficult enough, but this…?

“A vacation?!” Magnus railed from inside the room. “And a forced one at that? Both of us are perfectly capable of returning to work. We’re _fine_. What was she thinking?”

Alec restrained a grimace and ignored Magnus’ question. It was facetious anyway.

Alec stepped inside the room and slipped the door shut. He peered under the cushions of the bright teal couch, then patted them back into place so he could fall into their softness and pretend this wasn’t happening. “There’s a pull-out bed. I’ll sleep on that.”

“This room wasn’t an accident on her part, Alec,” Magnus continued ranting. “She brought us here under false pretenses, tearing us away from the citizens who need us, and placed us into one room on purpose. And the only reason she would do so is because she thinks we’re a couple or she’s trying to make us a couple.”

_No shit._

“Maybe you should’ve worn the hat then,” Alec deadpanned.

“I mean, you and me? Together? _Us_? It's ludicrous.”

“Apparently,” Alec mumbled under his breath.

Magnus spun on his heel. “What?”

“I said _obviously_. It’s obviously ludicrous.” Alec huffed then clapped his palms against his thighs and stood. He wasn’t going to find any respite in this room. “Well, we're here now and you like to drink. So, yeah, let’s go do that.”

Magnus fell silent and Alec could feel his eyes on him as he tracked to his suitcase and unzipped it.

“I also want pie.”

Alec paused digging through his clothes and peered over his shoulder. “What?”

“Key Lime Pie.” Magnus shrugged. “We _are_ on vacation.”

Two seconds ago he’d been ranting and now he wanted…pie?

Alec shook his head in disbelief. “You are fucking maddening.”

“I’m reasonable,” Magnus corrected.

Alec gathered up a pair of running shorts and a fresh tee from his suitcase. He hadn’t exactly planned on dressing casually for an entire weekend, so his workout gear would have to do. “Right.”

“We are a thirteen hour plane ride away from home and everyone there thinks we’re working, so they’re not going to bother us. We’re in Key West—the home of Hemingway, endless sun, sandy beaches, and the ubiquitous Key Lime, of which, I hear, they make excellent pie.”

Alec headed for the bathroom with his clothes in hand. “So go get yourself some pie.”

“After that drink,” Magnus said, seemingly decided. “I could use a drink or ten right now.”

Alec pushed the bathroom door nearly closed, knowing that Magnus would continue to talk, then rested on the edge of the tub and began to undress.

“Do you think the hotel restaurant is passable or should we—” Magnus pushed through the bathroom door and his eyes widened. “What are you doing?”

“Getting changed. If we’re going to be here for the next three days then I’m going to have to change clothes a few times.”

Magnus’ eyes lingered on Alec’s bare chest for a brief second, then he rotated on his heel and strode out of the bathroom. “There’s no reason to get sarcastic with me, Alec.”

Alec exhaled a world-weary sigh and finished getting dressed.

The outlook for the day didn’t get any better as he made his way past the pool to the nearest bar, with Magnus sashaying on his heels, only to find Izzy sunning by the pool.

Izzy slid down her sunglasses and met his gaze. “Nice room?”

Alec didn’t even slow. “I hate you.”

“Have fun!”

Alec slumped into the first open barstool he found and immediately ordered a beer. He downed that, then ordered another and Magnus merely eyed him and walked away, likely in search of cheerier companionship.

After last week…. Alec couldn’t wipe the memories from his brain of the two days he’d spent in that makeshift cell. He’d never forget the faces of the people around him, just like he’d never forget the soldiers he’d tried to save the day his unit had been ambushed.

Others had lost their lives, and for some reason he'd been granted more time. And he was using that time to brood while he sat in the middle of paradise?

His third beer sat in front of him nearly untouched as he thought and Alec sat back, taking stock of his worn-down body. The warm, humid air was already doing wonders for his muscles, as well as supplanting the chill in his bones. Alec cracked his neck, took a deep breath, and realized that he’d been working harder at holding onto his frustration and his sadness than just…letting it go. Taking a vacation from _everything_.

It had been years since he’d taken a real vacation. Maybe Izzy had been right.

In the hours that passed after that, Alec watched as Magnus flitted around the bar, signing autographs and regaling his newest fans with stories. A few of them showed up at Alec’s side too, seeking verification of Magnus’ outlandish claims. Regardless of how untrue some of them were, Alec confirmed each and every one.

At some point, Magnus bounded back up to their room and brought down the deerstalker hat so people could pose for selfies in it. He steadfastly denied every request for him to wear the hat, biting out cutting, sarcastic remarks to anyone who challenged him, and yet the bar patrons seemed to love him even more for that. Alec just shook his head. Their reactions made no sense, and yet Alec understood them perfectly.

Magnus was charisma personified.

Eventually, he ended up in a conversation with a man who’d visited the Keys once on a vacation and had never returned home. It had been years since Alec had attempted any kind of flirting, and he was rustier than he'd imagined, but the interest on the man's face couldn't be denied.

Hours of drinking had left him wobbly and a bit out of sorts as he maintained a buzz that fell just a hairs-breadth away from drunk, and Alec’s gaze landed on Magnus more than it did the other man. Enough that when Magnus approached, the man glanced wistfully at Alec before saying his goodbyes.

“Did I drive him away?” Magnus said, as he took up the spot next to Alec. “Shame.”

Alec waved over the bartender in lieu of responding to that.

“I’ll take another beer, and….” Alec tipped his head in Magnus’ direction. “He’d like a slice of Key Lime pie.”

Magnus bit back a smirk, but when that bright green dessert was set in front of him, Magnus’ smile couldn’t be contained. “You two were chatting for a while.”

“I’m not interested.”

“I’m sure you could bed him if you put in even a modicum of effort.”

Alec didn’t make eye contact as he sipped at his beer. “Maybe I have a boyfriend back home.”

“I highly doubt that, but _if_ you do, he’s an extraordinarily awful lover.”

“Really? Why do you say that?”

“The permanent furrow between your brows. Your dejected shoulder slump. No man who exists in the valley of bliss is always so…uptight.”

“Maybe you just suck all my bliss away.”

“I assure you…” Magnus turned toward Alec, the fork resting on his lips as they curled into a smile, “any sucking I do has the opposite effect.”

Alec rolled his eyes even as his cheeks heated. This is what Magnus did best, throwing out wild statements to deflect from what he was really thinking. Diversionary tactics of epic proportions that didn’t allow anyone around him to get close.

Alec pushed his drink away and stood. “I’m going to bed. Don’t bring anyone back to the room. Unlike you, I need my sleep.”

“Would you take this back to the room for me, then?” Magnus slid the deerstalker across the bar to Alec. “If I end up in someone else’s bed tonight I don’t want to have to keep track of it.”

Alec stared at the hat.

He wasn’t oblivious to that fact that he wore his emotions on his sleeve. That the vast majority of his emotions ran the severely-limited gamut of surly to pissed made hiding his attraction to Magnus easier, but he was also well-aware that he hadn’t been completely successful.

He was sure Magnus knew how Alec felt about him, and that made Magnus’ disinterest hurt worse.

Yes, there were moments when he wondered if he was wrong—a glance, a touch, a suggestive comment. Those moments were simply too far apart, too well-hidden, and too fleeting for Alec to believe they were real. Then requests like the one Magnus had just made came along and Alec had no doubt his feelings were one-way.

He swiped up the hat without comment and ducked under the thatched roof of the bar.

“Wait.”

Alec inhaled deeply and turned to face Magnus.

Magnus’ brow furrowed as he seemed to be searching for words, then. “Thank you for the pie, Alexander.”

Alec opened his mouth and couldn’t find a reply. When Magnus let Alec’s full given name slip past his lips like that, Alec reconsidered everything.

He nodded and stalked off before he could think twice about that.

 

****

 

Magnus thumped his head back against the elevator wall in frustration.

He should’ve gone after Alec immediately instead of waiting an hour, allowing his thoughts to swirl into a chaotic, discombobulated mess. But in that hour he’d removed himself from all distractions, retreating to an empty dock in the marina and to his mind palace.

Alec snapped at him, and baited him into arguments. He lived in a near-perpetual state of annoyance when Magnus was around, but he was always there, always willing to drop anything and everything when Magnus called….

He’d stared at the picture for an hour, reframing every interaction he’d ever had with Alec.

Before last week, he’d never seen Alec truly in pain. But Alec’s reaction to the flight attendant and to Magnus’ statement about where and how he might spend his night…. Alec hadn’t been nervous or annoyed, he was…in pain. And maybe, just maybe, that was because Alec had fallen as deeply for Magnus as Magnus had fallen for him.

Magnus shook his head.

There was no “maybe” about it.

He now knew how Alec felt about him and it had taken _years_ too long for a supposedly master detective to put together.

Had he really said to Alec that he was going to end up in _someone else’s bed?_

If he ended up in anyone else’s bed, he wanted it to be Alec’s. That they now shared a bed in one hotel room should’ve made that prospect more likely, but he had no doubt that he’d enter their room only to find Alec sprawled across the too-tiny pull-out couch bed instead. Alec had his principles and he never wavered from them.

Magnus extracted his key card from his linen pants and waved it over the lock. Damn Alec’s principles, they were going to end up in that king-sized bed together tonight.

He pushed through the door quietly. Moonlight sliced through the open balcony doors, casting the room in shadows, and Magnus stopped cold.

The sheets on the pull-out bed had been ripped down the middle, the coffee table was on its side, and blood streaked across the floor.

He flipped on the light and rotated around the empty hotel room, his heart beating out of his chest. There, on the king-sized bed, laid the deerstalker hat—a spray of blood staining it and the untouched duvet. Magnus struggled to catch his breath.

Izzy had given him one job, and he’d failed it.

This couldn’t be happening again.

The serial killer who had stalked Magnus, taunting him into playing a game, was dead. He’d watched Scotland Yard’s finest gun him down when he’d refused to drop his weapon. Was this a copy cat? Had someone slipped something into one of Alec’s drinks?

Magnus conjured the memory of Alec sleeping peacefully on the plane despite the nicks on his face and his still-swollen knuckles. Injuries that had been inflicted by someone else, but were Magnus’ fault none-the-less.

And now it was happening again.

Magnus forced himself to move and began scanning the room. Their luggage had been left undisturbed and Alec’s wallet laid on the TV console next to his room key card. His cane was still propped up by the closet. The blood stains had begun to dry and seemed to be contained to the ocean side part of the room.

Magnus’ head snapped up.

There.

Scuff marks marring the pristine white paint of the balcony.

Magnus strode out to the balcony, knelt down and touched his fingertips to the dark streaks. Bits of black plastic stuck fast to his skin—rubber from the soles of running shoes. He stood and peered over the edge, then looked to his left, finding the same scuff marks on Izzy’s balcony.

Magnus’ stomach clenched. Not Isabelle too.

He hit the button on his cell to call Izzy and heard a responding ring emanating from her room. When the call went into voicemail, Magnus didn’t hesitate. He stepped onto the railing and jumped, landing on the glass table and spider-webbing the surface. Her balcony door gaped open, so Magnus slipped inside, his breaths coming harshly.

The room was empty.

Magnus strode past Izzy’s abandoned purse where her cell laid on top, the screen still lit with the notification from Magnus’ call, and stormed through the door into the hallway.

Fear clamored through his veins but decisiveness burned it away. There wouldn’t be forty-eight hours of desperate searching or scrambling to piece together clues this time, because the one object that was missing from he and Alec’s hotel room was Alec’s cell.

Magnus jabbed his finger against his screen and the blue circle indicating the location of Alec’s phone popped up. Magnus took off running.

It didn’t matter how Magnus felt about Alec, or that Alec may feel the same, they could never be together. Magnus welcomed danger into his life, but Alec…. Alec already carried permanent scars, so many more than a kind soul like him should ever have to bear, and Magnus wouldn’t allow him to hurt anymore.

A frustrated, brooding Alec was better than a dead one.

He careened around the corner of Elizabeth Street, deeper into the neighborhoods and away from the ocean. Laughter and music carried on the wind from Duval Street, just blocks away, but dread was overtaking Magnus.

The location of Alec’s cell hadn’t changed, which meant either the device had been abandoned somewhere or, if Alec still had it on him…Alec wasn’t moving.

Magnus ran faster, sucking oxygen into his burning lungs and closing in on that blue dot. Ten houses to go. Seven. Four. Two….

Magnus froze. He couldn’t be seeing who he thought he was on the front porch.

“Biscuit?”

Clary turned toward the road and waved. “Hey, Magnus. When did you take up running? Come on up. Alec and Izzy are inside.”

 

****

 

Alec lifted his head when he heard Magnus’ voice coming from the front porch and groaned. The last person he wanted to see right now was _the Magnus Bane_. Not when his head still throbbed from his tumble to the sidewalk, and his pride stung even more.

But there was no way that Clary—Magnus’ FBI contact from New York and, more recently, Izzy’s sparring partner when she visited London—wasn’t going to allow Magnus inside. Alec sunk deeper into the couch and re-situated the ice pack over his eyes.

The door creaked as it opened, then the hollow tap of footfalls over time-worn floorboards. Alec kept his ice pack locked in place, refusing to meet Magnus’ eyes.

“You remember Simon, right, Magnus?”

“When have you ever known me to forget anything?”

On the couch kitty corner to Alec, Simon whispered to Izzy, “He remembers me!”

Alec rolled his eyes under the ice pack.

“Well,” Magnus announced with a clap of his hands. “I would ask what occurred to turn your holiday rental into an infirmary, but I already know.”

Alec peeked out from under his ice pack, curiosity getting the better of him.

Clary crossed her arms. “Do you?”

“Clary and Simon, you’ve been here for three, maybe four days. A planned vacation, not spur of the moment. Getting away from the city, naturally, but also because….” Magnus’ gaze flitted between Izzy, Clary, and Simon, assessing, then he pointed at Simon, “ _you_ are sleeping with Isabelle, although I have to admit that one took a moment because the Sapphic vibes in this cozy bungalow are also quite strong. You’ve been holding out on me, Biscuit.”

The blush on Clary’s cheeks nearly matched her hair.

“Anyway…. A night-time rendezvous at the hotel that veered into an attempted show of masculine prowess when someone—also you, Simon—made two…no, three jumps between Isabelle and Alec’s balconies—”

“Simon is learning to parkour,” Clary cut in.

Simon shrugged. “I’m not very good at it.”

“Indeed,” Magnus responded dryly, “since the final jump ended with you sprawled on Alec’s balcony and tore your leg open. Alec attempted to treat the injury using the sheets off the pull-out bed, as any good battlefield medic would do when unavailed of an adequate first aid kit. Simon called Clary in a panic, Alec reassured him he was fine—sage advice you didn’t listen to Simon, a shame—and Izzy nearly carried you back here, accompanied by her brother so he could utilize the ancient first aid kit Clary had uncovered in the bathroom. I’m assuming there was also some bickering between the Drs. Lightwood on the way here about which physician was more apt at treating Simon’s wounds—the doctor who sees live patients, or dead ones.”

“I had to go through med school just like Alec did,” Izzy pointed out.

“And Alec….” Magnus gracefully twisted a hand in the air as he faced Alec.

Alec couldn’t breathe.

He’d felt the force of Magnus’ piercing, all-knowing gaze before, but never like this.

“Alec face-planted into some bushes,” Clary stated.

“We already solved that case,” Simon piped up. “According to WebMD, he shouldn't have been drinking with the medication he’s taking to loosen up his muscles. You’d think a _doctor_ would know that.”

“Technically,” Izzy said, “Alec’s an amateur sleuth slash ex-soldier slash doctor.”

“So you’re saying that two-thirds of his professional personas were ordering his drinks tonight?”

“Or one hundred percent of his wounded pride,” Izzy replied.

Alec would’ve glared at Izzy, but he couldn’t look away from Magnus.

He often felt like a bug speared to a wall under Magnus’ inspection, but Magnus wasn't studying him for once. He gazed at Alec as if he was seeing Alec for the first time.

Alec just didn't understand…why.

Simon chuckled. “Okay, Magnus. Now I gotta hear how you figured out _where_ we were.”

Magnus maintained eye contact with Alec as he held up his phone, a blue dot blinking on the screen.

Alec sighed. He’d completely forgotten he’d shared his cell location with Magnus after his disappearance last week—

 _Fuck_.

His disappearance.

“You’re magical _and_ practical,” Simon praised Magnus. “Are you single?”

“ _You’re_ not,” Izzy protested.

Simon tipped his head in Alec’s direction. “I’m asking for a friend.”

But Alec couldn’t even react to Simon’s characteristic lack of subtlety. He dropped the ice pack to the couch as realization washed over him.

“You thought it had happened again,” Alec rasped out.

Magnus snapped his shoulders back and the…openness he'd seen on Magnus’ face shuttered. “I didn’t.”

“You did.”

“I knew exactly what had happened as soon as I saw the room.” Magnus stalked across the room and knelt down at Alec’s side. “How bad is your headache?”

Alec couldn’t find the breath to answer as Magnus lifted his fingers to Alec’s forehead and began working at the pressure point to ease headaches—a pressure point Alec had taught him. Alec searched his face for any hint of the man he’d just seen, but Magnus had completely closed himself off again.

He gritted his teeth, even though his pain receded under Magnus’ agile fingers. “I’m fine, Magnus. Just—”

“Stop moving,” Magnus bit out. “You’re an even worse patient than it appears Simon was.”

Alec had treated two year olds who could sit still longer than Simon, but that wasn’t the point.

“You were worried about me.” Alec circled his hand around Magnus’ wrist and held him in place. A fine sheen of sweat still clung to Magnus’ brow and in the divot of his collarbone. His hair lay flat against his forehead, against flushed skin. Alec inhaled sharply. “No. You ran all the way here. You weren’t just worried, you were scared.”

Magnus grimaced and yanked his hand away, rushing to his feet. “Of course I thought you’d been taken again! And I wasn’t just scared, I was _terrified_ —because I can’t bear to see you hurt!”

Even Izzy, Simon, and Clary’s footsteps as they retreated to the kitchen couldn’t break the thunderous silence that followed.

Alec swung his legs to the floor. “Why?”

“Why what?” Magnus snapped.

“Why can’t you bear to see me hurt?”

Magnus clamped his lips shut and his jaw clenched.

“You love me, Magnus.” He stood, refusing to back down, especially in the face of Magnus’ silence. “Do we really have to dance around this when both of us know? Here, I’ll even go first. I—” Alec swallowed and met Magnus’ eyes. “I’m in love with you too. Have been for years.”

Magnus cracked his neck and stared Alec down, taking a step closer. “Hmmm. Dilated pupils. Clammy skin. Parted lips as you struggle for breath around a rapidly beating heart. Are you sure you’re not just an opium addict, Alec?”

“Don’t do that.” Alec stifled the overwhelming urge to disappear on his own this time. That was exactly what Magnus wanted, he just didn’t know why. He stepped into Magnus’ personal space and peered down at him. “My name is Alexander, Magnus. Say it.”

Magnus remained silent, but his silence spoke louder than anything he could say.

“Or….” Alec tilted his head and glanced at Magnus’ lips. “Why waste breath on my name when you could just kiss me? Like you’ve wanted to for the last two years.”

Magnus’ Adam’s apple bobbed as he swallowed roughly. “You seem sure of that.”

“This is a case even _I_ can solve. You love me and I love you—it’s that simple.”

Magnus took a step back then, retreating.

“No, Alec. It’s not that simple at all. I—” Magnus shook his head slowly. “I am not a person one should love. Especially…. Especially not someone like you.”

Alec shrugged. “Too late.”

“My work is…dangerous,” Magnus bit out.

 _Oh_.

So that’s what this was really about.

“You are the most intelligent idiot I know,” Alec insisted. “ _Our_ work is dangerous. And I willingly follow you into every case because I don’t want to see you get hurt either.”

Magnus’ brow furrowed. “Then why would we—”

“Then why would we even think of being together?” Alec closed the distance between them and swept Magnus into his arms. He flattened his palms on Magnus’ back and reveled in the widening of Magnus’ irises when their bodies were pressed together. “Because even one minute of this is worth more than a lifetime without each other. It’s elementary, my dear Magnus.”

Alec was used to long, drawn out arguments from Magnus, framing situations in their vast, complicated entirety then whittling each individual piece down until only one possibility remained.

Alec saw those calculations as they skittered through Magnus’ mind and he prepared himself to hear it all and defend against any flaws in Magnus’ argument if necessary, but Magnus peered up at him and simply said, “I can’t argue with that brilliant of a deduction, Alexander.”

So Alec kissed him.


End file.
